To Whom May Never See Me Get Old (A Poet’s Tale)
(Soldier Poet Series)
To whom may never see me get old,
shake hands with youth, not ageing skin,
see fire in my eyes looking you straight,
not as fading candles in the snow.
Let us walk a vale of fervent step,
not amble as lifelong friends pondering might-have been scenarios,
and permit us to laugh with each other whilst raining drops from the elixir of smiles.
See my hair healthily vibrant,
borne from nature’s dew rather than a sage of gotten years,
yellowing my furrowed brow from this existence worn tired and ugly.
Remember only the appearance dark, tall and never arching,
sprightly and lean to task, not slow and dour, or withering from fear by every ailment diagnosed,
for its better to up and be taken with a mind of a fox, than to outstay your welcome and be forever pictured in the penultimate place of residence,
nodding to every familiar stranger calling themselves family…….
To whom, may never see me get old,
think of the candy kisses, parties and dances,
Christmasses’ and New Years,
I will never suffer the need to be helped across the road,
tended whilst sitting in gardens of ‘sit here all day’,
being left sadly stagnant until next week’s visit.
Think of me eternally swinging in the school playground,
participating in all the sports events year after year,
watching every moon smile and be the friend you always knew.
To whom will never see me get old….
…… I never did.
©Nick Hawkins Poetry 2015